


Hardcore Widow

by ProjectAtlas



Category: Hardcore Henry (2016)
Genre: Revenge, Villain Protagonist, cyborg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 16:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProjectAtlas/pseuds/ProjectAtlas
Summary: Set only days after the events of the film, Estelle awakens, critically injured after narrowly surviving her fall. With the aid of an enigmatic mercenary team and a loyal co-worker, she'll seek revenge by hunting the man who destroyed her life. And fight to complete Akan's plan of bringing down the current world order.(This is going to be my first long-term fanfiction, so updates are going to be very slow. But I hope you enjoy reading this "fan-made sequal" story as much as I'll enjoy writing it!)





	Hardcore Widow

PRELUDE

 

One night in Moscow, a woman fell from a helicopter and plunged into the frigid Moskva River below. When a handful of workers on a barge dove in and pulled her to safety, it was believed due to her wounds, that she'd been shot just moments before. Along with having her fingers almost entirely severed. Yet what these Good Samaritans didn't know was that the bullet had actually ricocheted into her. And it was not a knife that had done the damage to her hands, but a heavy aircraft door. Both injuries were results of her attempt to kill a man who was the real victim. Some might have considered her survival a miracle. But this young woman, Estelle, was merely clinging to life by an increasingly deteriorating thread. Not that she knew it herself. She had lost consciousness upon impact, having felt the agony of the cold engulf her only for an instant. The skill of the surgeons would not have been enough to keep her alive. The reason for Estelle's recovery was due to experimental, artificial organs. Oddly enough, these synthetic wonders were her own inventions, implanted by the very corporation Estelle had worked for. With the procedure being a success, it was only a matter of waiting for her to regain conscioussness. An event that was expedited by the use of this technology. 

After the death of their CEO, Akan Inc. was now on the verge of splintering into several smaller companies. Each side locked in legal battles over who had rights to what. The blame for the death of the eponymous Akan was placed on a man authorities only knew as Henry. An alleged terrorist responsible for the deaths of both private security and police officers.

Within Estelle's memory was a moment long before the day of Henry's activation. She was standing near the Kremlin on a mild day. Only a few clouds were scattered across the sky, stretching out like white, silver-lined ribbons. Tourists and locals alike chattered around the landmark. For her, Spring in Moscow was more beautiful, and more meaningful than the consistently warm climate of her hometown in Florida. Estelle was wearing her wedding dress, her right arm wrapped around Akan's waist, in the other was a bouquet of flowers. Each of them as brilliant a red as the historical fortress that stood in front of her. Akan simply wore a grey suit and black bow tie. She knew he hated dressing up. Despite being a wealthy man, Akan had very simple taste in clothing. He did not wear his formal attire out of respect for the tradition he and Estelle were about to partake in, but rather as a favor to her. Something she appreciated. "Ready, darling?", He said turning his head towards Estelle. "Of course. Wow, this looks really, really beautiful.", Estelle whispered while staring in awe at the memorial's flame in front of them. It emerged from the center of a bronze star. They were standing at Russia's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Akan then placed his left arm around her shoulder, and together the newlyweds began their walk towards the memorial. "Lay down the flowers on the right side.", Akan instructed in a hushed tone. Estelle nodded. As the area became nearly silent, all that could be heard now were their footsteps against the red granite floor, and the slight beeps or artificial clicking of cell phone cameras. Phones of tourists as well as those of Estelle's family. They arrived at the large slab, decorated with a black metal sculpture made to look like a World War II soviet helmet placed on a cloth that was draped over the tomb. Estelle gently put the flowers down, hearing her mother whisper something to her dad in the background. Akan also seemed to take notice. He knew her mother had never been fond of him. With a wide grin, Akan rolled his eyes and French-kissed Estelle. A kiss that seemed to have lasted a minute. She could almost feel her mother's furious gaze. And relished the thought, hoping that was truly the case. After walking down, they began posing for pictures. "Thanks for doing this with me, Akan." "You wanted a Russian wedding, you got yourself a fuckin' Russian wedding!", he chuckled before kissing her again. She turned to smile for a second after hearing her family clapping. As the applause continued, Akan then looked into Estelle's eyes. "We're going to be like that flame, yeah? Nothing will snuff us out. And like a fire, we're going to purge the shit out of-"  
Clapping was now the sound Estelle awoke to. As her eyes half-way adjusted to the light, details still a moderate blur, she could discern that several other scientists were applauding her for an unknown reason. They were all speaking at once about her being awake. "Ok, guys! Everybody! Enough. Jesus Christ.", one man shouted over their excitement. He then spoke solemnly as the group gradually fell silent. "This is good. But let's try...to show a little reverence." Estelle found herself on a hospital bed, her neck was locked in position by a brace. Confused, she gazed at the group of about twenty men and women in front of her. There was a searing sensation of pain around her fingers. As everything in Estelle's field of vision came into focus at last, she raised her hands slightly, eyes straining to look from side to side. Her head was impossible to turn due to the neck brace, but she could see clearly enough that the assumption of her fingers merely being injured, was a grave understatement. To Estelle's horror, there was little left of her fingers at all. She let out a sorrowful cry, now remembering clearly the events of that night. Her injury was a secondary concern, as the terrible memory of seeing her husband's head held out in front of her had come flooding back in an instant. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Akan!" she exclaimed before sobbing.  
"I...I'm so sorry about your husband", the scientist who quieted the room down told her as he shook his head. "He was a good friend of mine, you know?" Estelle, occupied by grief, simply nodded in agreement. Then, through tears that had now replaced the blur, Estelle could see who she was speaking to. Her voice was breaking as she tried to stop sobbing. "Marty?", she managed to say clearly. He smiled almost as if he didn't expect her to recognize him. "Hi, Estelle."  
"Why am I still here? How could he do this?! To me?! To Akan?!", Estelle shouted as she looked at the group in the room. Frantically, Marty turned to the cluster of scientists. "I told you guys, I'll talk to her about the incident. Give her some privacy."  
"No problem, boss. We'll leave you to it. Good luck.", one of the women said. Once they had all left, Marty shut the door. "You're here because of the technology you made. It was my decision to use most of what was left from you're research to keep you alive."  
"No! My God, Marty! What did you do to me?! Don't you get it?! Everything's fucking done! I know we never told you everything, but my work means nothing if Akan's dead. We planned a future together-"  
"So did I.", the joy that had suddenly washed over his face faded to a look of concern "I believed in Akan's vision, too."  
Estelle gave an exasperated sigh before she shut her eyes and shook her head. "I shouldn't be taking it out on you. It's my fault. No way around that. I was so sure, so arrogant that I had everything planned out. To the last detail!", she slammed the back of her head against the pillow. closing her eyes tightly. "What a joke, right?"  
"Maybe, I'm also responsible.", Marty said.  
Estelle opened her eyes, and looked over to him. "You? All you did was take the escape pod like I asked. I needed to see if he'd save me. I'm the one who chose...Henry...for my work. That was my mistake.", her lips twisted in disgust as she seemed to force his name out of her mouth.  
"I could've done more. Suggested adding a kill switch or...anything. But there's something you need to know.", he replied, walking closer with his head held low. Marty's eyes were turned downward toward his left. Just as he opened his mouth, ready to continue, Estelle spoke again, unintentionally cutting him off. "Where is he now?" Her tone contained a mournful, steady rage. Tense, as if it were a tightly compressed spring. Though her expression was still full of worry. Marty took a deep breath, then finally looked up at her. "Henry? Still out there. But Estelle, he had help. And it's that guy we need to find."  
"Jimmy", she said coldly. "Akan...Akan told me about him."  
"Then you know why he was there. Why he used our subject against us?"  
Estelle scoffed. "Yeah. It's why I told Akan ahead of time to get rid those idiots in the lab..."  
"You won't hear any complaints from me.", Marty shrugged before continuing. "But what I'm trying to say is, Jimmy is the one we should focus on."  
"Henry was the one who murdered Akan!"  
"Yes, but I think that if we find Jimmy, we find Henry too. I'll let you know when I have more info. For now, you need your rest." She simply nodded once more. The door closed with an soft click. The sound of clean, smooth metal fitting into place. Estelle glanced at the low pitched droning of the lights above. Their hum was barely audible. Drowned out by the throbbing that now persisted in her head. In her outrage and bereavement, she had failed to notice it before. 

Over the next few days, more modifications were added. While her vital organs were successfully replaced, Estelle still needed her new limbs attached. As well as a final procedure that would restore her ability to walk. At one point, she had made some of the staff uneasy after laughing hysterically, and eventually crying with equally as little control, at the irony of her entire hands being replaced. Both with the same technology Estelle had used on her many test subjects. The exposure to the cold waters, although brief, was still enough to damage the nerves of her wounds beyond repair. The only option was to connect the prosthetics to her wrists. Despite suspicious whispers from the other scientists about Estelle's psyche, Marty remained optimistic about the situation as he carefully aided his colleague on her road to recovery. One morning, Marty had brought her some coffee along with cereal. "You ready to eat food now? IV's all you've had.", he said while setting the tray on the table that lay across the bed. To Estelle, food could wait. Weeks if necessary. At first, she had been preoccupied with visiting the resting place of her late husband. Yet one of the doctors told her that Akan's ashes, as he once requested, had been scattered into the Pripyat River in Ukraine. The place of his birth. Now there was not even a stone to lay flowers on. Her eyes welled up as she remembered the day of her wedding.  
"Nothing will snuff us out." She muttered to herself, starring at the tray. Marty paused for a moment, trying to make sense in his mind about what she just said. He then thought it better to distract Estelle, if only for an instant. He handed her the mug of coffee. "Sorry, Marty. Yeah...I guess I'll have something. Thanks."  
"No problem. Hey, I-", Marty let out a quick grunt as coffee scolded his hand and forearm. The mug had broken to pieces, crushed by Estelle's prosthetic.  
"Fuck!", She dropped her head on the pillow. "Look at what I did. I'm sorry. It's these things! I can't work with these!", Estelle held up her mechanical hands, her sorrowful eyes looked up at them, shifting from right to left as she still rested her head.  
"It's alright. I'll run it under the sink. There's some good news though.", Marty said while picking up a napkin from the tray. "The police say some guy, a vigilante, is killing the mafia. Descriptions from witnesses match that of the 'terrorist' the police were after.", Marty made air quotes as he spoke the word of Henry's accusitory title.  
Estelle's eyes shot open. "Oh my God. Is it really Henry?"  
"I have no reason to think it's not. Now I know we lost our security division, but I have a list with some candidates you might helpful for-"  
"Hire all of them.", she told Marty.  
Then Estelle turned to look at him. As she spoke, her voice quivered. Overwhelmed by loss. Marty, however, detected a spark of something more. Single-minded determination. He could see Estelle flex the fingers of the hand that had ruined the coffee mug. "But...how much more is left over from my research? Because, I need a favor from you. And these hands might be useful after all."


End file.
